


the worthiest (it feels like i belong)

by maikuria



Category: Inn Between (Podcast)
Genre: (melting Is there now but mostly this is about trust and family), Found Family, Gen, I love this fandom very much, Team as Family, platonic intimacy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21568195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maikuria/pseuds/maikuria
Summary: It is one thing to trust each other in battle, where the smallest mistake could lead to their deaths. Trust is necessary, then.But here's the thing: Sterling trusts his friends even when they are safe.(Or: several occasions the gang helps Sterling unfasten his armor, and all that it implies.)
Relationships: Meltyre/Sterling Whitetower
Comments: 38
Kudos: 42





	1. shut up, kid, get some sleep

**Author's Note:**

> HEYA! It's me, Ria. Today I will be hitting you with feelings.

The first time it happens, he is incredibly surprised by it.

They’re fresh from another scouting mission. Nothing important happened, just trees and animals all around. Today, they can rest.

This, however, means he basically put on the armor for nothing.

Of course, he will take any and all chances to show his allegiance to his Saint, for he is a paladin still, in ways he can’t quite explain. He does not  _ regret  _ putting the armor on, especially because something could have happened. If it had, he should have been prepared. Sterling would have hated himself if something were to interfere with him and his fellow adventurers and he was unprepared. He is sworn to protect them, always.

_ (He hasn’t quite realized what this means, yet.) _

But, and this is his only real complaint, the armor is heavy. Not unbearably so, certainly not, he can and will take this weight with him. However, it is tiring, and they have been on the road for a while. Additionally, it takes a long time to fasten  _ and  _ unfasten. He mulls over this the whole way back.

They are back at the Goblin’s Head. It’s Betty’s turn to go for their drinks. He is sitting with the other three, engaged in conversation. His shoulders ache. 

_ There is no danger,  _ he tells himself, and promptly begins to shed his armor.

Just the gloves, of course, he still has a modicum of propriety. He won’t… he is  _ not  _ going to take it all off here. Not only would that be inappropriate, but it would be a pain to take back to his room. Still, he fiddles with the fastenings around his arm guards. He already feels much lighter just by loosening them, once he loses the weight he can move slightly better. 

He goes to stretch and freezes.

_ (They are all looking at him. He doesn’t know it yet. They don’t realize they’re doing it, either.) _

_ (There’s many things none of them have realized.) _

His shoulders… present a problem. With the extra mobility of his arm, he can feel the pain more acutely. Not only is his left shoulder stiff, it seems to be… bruised. He presses his lips together, trying to pinpoint the origin, remembers the blow he suffered at one of the Bone King’s minion’s hands. It hadn’t been much, but he certainly hadn’t allowed his arm to rest, not amidst their mission.

His fingers flex as he tries to undo the knot, release the plate just so he can tend to his shoulder, but the pain stretches along his back as he tries. He can’t− he can’t quite manage to do it right.

_ Useless. _

_(Sometimes, he wonders if he is worthy of this armor. If all the ways it does not fit him are a sign, perhaps Saint Cuthbert has a message and he is not listening.)_

_(He knows he is being ridiculous. This may be his calling, but Saint Cuthbert has never called to him. All he has is this test and the mark on his shield.)_

A hand bats his away.

“Gee, pretty boy,” Fina snorts, “I know your hands are clumsy, but this is a whole other level.”

“I−!” 

But Fina’s standing on her chair, already reaching out and working through the knots herself. He holds his breath. He is very, very still. He cannot move, cannot risk his hat moving and her seeing... Seeing. She is… gentle, however, tugging at the fastenings with patience he had not expected.

_(Where this soft touch has come from, she does not know either.)_

“Lucky for you, I undo Betty’s armor all the time.”

He blushes at the innuendo, and she laughs.

“Fina! Don’t be so crass!”

“Now, now, Fina,” Velune pacifies, but they’re smiling. “There is no need for that.”

Fina sticks out her tongue at them. Her fingers are still working through his armor, surprisingly quick even as she retorts with something Sterling doesn’t hear.

Meltyre is looking at him. Well, more looking at his shoulder. For a second, Sterling thinks he’s studying the knots  _ (which is ridiculous, why would Meltyre need to know how to untie his armor?),  _ but the wizard frowns.

“Sterling,” he begins, almost hesitant. He caught him looking, Sterling realizes, saw Sterling’s focus on him.

_ (“I have never been so focused,” Fina will say. Sterling’s attention is a heavy thing.) _

“Yes, Meltyre?”

“Did you, uh, are you injured? You… you’re… your movements are stiff.”

Velune’s smile drops. They turn to Sterling, narrowing their eyes as if they could sight any injury through his clothes. Meltyre buries himself on his scarves, apparently hiding now that Sterling’s expression has given way to shock. Fina’s fingers stop moving.

“I… uh..  _ yes.  _ It would seem the hit I took a few days ago has festered into something unpleasant.”

“Is it a wound?” Velune inquires.

“No, I don’t think so,” it’s not a bleeding pain. “Just a bruise, at most, I assure you.”

“He’ll be  _ fine,  _ Velune,” Fina dismisses, already moving again. His shoulder plate comes off easily. “I mean, at least, he will be, if he gives his whole thing a rest.”

“What thing?”

“Just go to bed, Sterling,” Meltyre speaks up. “We have to move again tomorrow.”

_(He listens. When Meltyre speaks, Sterling always listens.)_

_(It is too early to say that, Meltyre will make a choice that will break all of their hearts. It is too early, still, but Sterling will learn.)_

"Wow," Fina calls as he walks away. "Not even a thank you?"


	2. what have i done to deserve such friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things change, on the road to the Bone King's stronghold.
> 
> For one, Sterling stops keeping secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have. Feelings. All of you will too.

They are sitting by the fire, for once camping like Betty always insists they do. It’s warm, but not too bright, and Sterling finds himself drifting even before they have finished their dinner. Now that he is using magic, his body seems to tire more as it gets used to that power. It is a different kind of exhaustion. 

He continues nibbling, however, lest Fina makes fun of him for being “delicate.”

_(He is not. Or, at least, not completely. Plenty a night while working for his Order ended with him camping out for a bit. Although, usually, he could pay for a room somewhere, or be offered one. Saint Cuthbert’s paladins are honored far and wide across the Kingdom, and he was a great paladin.)_

_(Sterling tries not to think about his order much.)_

For now, he eats. Fina is telling some over exaggerate _(yet extremely fascinating)_ tale of an adventure that probably did not happen. Judging by Betty’s expression, it did, but this is what Fina calls her “upgraded” version. It is a good story, Fina’s calm guitar only contributing more to Sterling’s growing exhaustion.

Today has _also_ been a quiet day, a welcome relief amidst all the fighting. And gods, have they been _fighting._ Each time they meet a little more resistance Sterling sees for himself _(again and again and again)_ how _capable_ the others are. If he wasn’t confident in their upcoming success already, he certainly is now.

_(He hopes the others have found their confidence, too,)_

_(They haven’t. This is not a matter of confidence, it isn’t something so easily solved. Many things hover around their heads, some of which he cannot understand._

_Sterling has never had to lose a person.)_

_(Not yet.)_

This does not cancel out how tired he is.

Fina trails off, quiet and tired herself, and Sterling closes his eyes.

The weight of his armor wakes him up.

He hasn’t taken it off, he realizes. It’s all still on, even his gloves. Why hadn’t he taken it off?

_(Because they make him forget it is heavy.)_

_(They make him forget a lot of things.)_

He’s never been able to sleep with it on. In fact, he is _sure_ the paladins who can are crazy. It is rather a lot. He wouldn’t say it is asphyxiating, of course he wouldn’t, but it’s certainly not something he can ignore. During the day he is in motion and so doesn’t feel it, but at night, in stillness, the cold quality of the metal keeps him up.

The fire hasn’t died yet, although it has dimmed. Drowsily, he starts working on his gloves. His movements are clumsy, slowed down and languid, and it takes considerably more time than would be reasonable to get them off. His shoulder guards go next, and he fumbles with those fastenings. It doesn’t help he has to do it one handed, even if he is now free of his gloves. He keeps having to blink, cuts off a yawn as it threatens to overcome him. 

_(“Someone’s sleepy.”_

_“Leave him be. What about your story?”_

_“Betty, you were there.”_

_“It’s lulling him to sleep.”_

_“And?”_

_Betty only smiles. Fina bristles.)_

_(She continues.)_

He starts nodding off while loosening them, which is rather embarrassing. Sterling’s spine feels like it may give out under him, and he near loses his balance multiple times. The whiplash as he tries to straighten himself isn’t enough to keep him aware either, the shock only last seconds before his eyes slip close again.

_(The other paladins never saw him like this.)_

_(But he’s not wearing his hat. There’s many things the paladins never saw.)_

“Uh, Sterling?”

He snaps awake, immediately locking eyes with Meltyre. The wizard looks strangely awake, which is fitting, he supposes. Meltyre has the first guard, of course he’d be especially observant. 

“Yes, Meltyre?” He tries, but the voices come out with an odd tint to them. He smiles at Meltyre, though, manages something he hopes is reassuring.

His _(friend)_ tilts his head, “Are you… are you alright?”

“Of course I am, what are you talking about?”

Velune sighs. 

Sterling tenses. He hadn’t known they were awake still, Velune is usually the first to retire. 

_(He is missing something. Velune is the first to retire, but they are the last to sleep._

_They call the weight of their exhaustion ‘atonement’.)_

He squints at them, “Friar?”

Velune gets up, the motion slow and deliberate. Sterling doesn’t miss the way they clutch their knees while doing so. 

“I just thought…” And just like that, his focus is on Meltyre again. He fidgets, fingers moving in the air as if he wanted to reach for something. He ends up settling for burying them in the long ends of his scarves. He nods in Sterling’s general direction. “You seem to be, ah… struggling?”

Indignance is, apparently, the most efficient way to recover one’s awareness, “I am not−!”

“Here,” Velune’s voice is much closer than he expected it to be. “Allow me.”

Their hands carefully, very carefully, work on the last knots of his shoulder guards. The right one slips off easily. 

_(Velune is much quicker than her was, but he is too shocked to be embarrased.)_

“Friar,” he tries, his voice higher than it ought to be. “That’s really not necessary.”

“Hush, my son.”

“But−”

“Sterling, really,” and his mouth closes immediately at that tone in their voice. “Let me help you.” 

He goes very, very quiet after that, lets Velune do as they wish. 

_(Meltyre smiles, just a bit.)_

Their touch is… kind. Velune is not as quick as Fina was, but they are more methodical. Their hands are old, Sterling realizes, their age and wisdom carrying a certainty Fina’s artistry did not. He feels himself lean back into their hands, the cloud of drowsiness finding him again. The music stops, but he can’t find it in himself to question the reason.

The left shoulder guard comes off as well, and Velune’s fingers find and unfasten his chest plate without pause.

“Alright,” he can hear Meltyre say. “I’m, uh, going to scout the perimeter now. You guys… you should all get some rest.”

“Sure, magic man. Careful out there.”

“Wake me up for next guard.”

“Yeah. Thanks, guys.”

Velune’s hands continue their work. They find the last knot and work to undo it with patience. It is the toughest one, and takes longer, but Sterling has admittedly already lost track of time. The friar’s fingers loosen it at last, their hands carefully pausing as all goes quiet.

_(They hesitate.)_

Then, Velune undoes the knot keeping his hair back. It falls around his face easily, and Velune cards their fingers through it. Sterling, unthinkingly, leans into it. Then, he realizes what he’s done and stands instead, embarrassed.

Once the pieces of his chest plate come off, he slips them off with Velune’s help, standing in the process. He nods at them, too tired to smile properly but not wanting to come off as ungrateful.

“There you go, Sterling. Now, was that so hard?”

Sterling chuckles, “Thank you, friar.”

Velune tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. The movement surprises him enough he tenses, and Velune pauses until he has relaxed again. 

It’s still…. shocking the accept him so easily.

_(Overwhelming.)_

“Now, go to bed. You don’t have a guard tonight.”

_(Before they ate, he did. But many things happen while one doesn’t look, and the others had been watching closely enough to, wordlessly, agree otherwise.)_

“Sleep well, Velune.”

  
  
  



	3. it is my right to bring my fighters, if they'll come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This, they know, is either the night before their deaths or the night before their triumph.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set between Toast and Necromancer, so More Feelings

Sterling… Sterling doesn’t know how to feel. Or, more precisely, he doesn’t know  _ what _ he’s feeling. 

Meltyre had  _ left.  _ The wizard Sterling had respected, the one who had taught him magic… he’d gone. He had been scared, and he had gone towards his sisters and away from their quest. He had  _ abandoned  _ the others.

_ (He had abandoned  _ Sterling _ , and even as Sterling had tried to hide in anger, he’d been desperate for Meltyre to stay.) _

And then… and then he’d come back.

He’d come back, and Sterling had been  _ stupid.  _ He had told Meltyre what had happened  _ to his sisters  _ was for the  _ best.  _ It had been selfish, and it had been inconsiderate. He had been  _ awful  _ to Meltyre, had driven him to…

Gods, Sterling thought Meltyre wanted to  _ die. _

_ (And wasn’t that what he asked of him, before he left? To die with them?) _

And Sterling had been so eager, too, incredibly happy to have their friend back. He had shielded himself in honor and told Meltyre he could make up for a cowardice that had never truly existed. He had forced his views of the issue upon his friend, made a fool of himself in the process.

In retrospect, it isn’t surprising Meltyre had summoned the chromatic orb.

_ (It wasn’t surprising then either, not exactly. Sterling had stared past the glow into Meltyre’s eyes and he hadn’t flinched.) _

_ (Even then, he trusted.) _

This… is all a headache.

Sterling had apologized, of course he had, but it didn’t feel like enough.

He groans, burying his face in his hands. This, of course, directly leads him to feeling the cold metal. He stays there, anyway, feeling like−

“I made myself an idiot, didn’t I?”

Betty only hums in response.

The others have already left for bed. Tessa had their usual rooms prepared, even Meltyre’s _(she had been waiting for him, hadn’t she?),_ and the others had slowly left for theirs. Velune had been the first to go, as usual, spent from the battle and their injuries. Fina had been next, slightly drunk but mostly exhausted, even her steps had been weary, and she had been quiet.

_ (They all know what tomorrow will bring.) _

Meltyre had been next. He had stared at his cup for a long, long time, before leaving. Sterling had wanted to ask, but he feared he’d already made enough of a fool of himself already, didn’t know how  _ not  _ to make matters worse. He’s tried calling his friend’s name, but…

Meltyre had looked at him, eyes watering and too focused, and the words had died in his throat. 

He did not say goodbye before leaving for bed.

“You were hurt,” Betty continues, her voice matching the quiet atmosphere. 

“That doesn’t excuse−”

“No, but it explains it,” she takes a sip of her water. “When you’re hurt you lash out.”

“A shameful habit.”

“Yup.”

Sterling grimaces.

“I should apologize again, most likely.”

“No,” when he looks at her, she shrugs. “Meltyre doesn’t want words. He already said it’s okay.”

“But, is it? We’re still going to fight the Bone King! And I’m sure we will succeed but if he doesn’t truly want to fight−!”

“He doesn’t want to die.”

He stops, slumps over again, “I know. But he’s only fighting because his sisters are…”

“He didn’t want to leave.”

This makes him pause. Betty is staring at him, and her eyes catch the dim firelight. She looks… patient, earnest, like she’s trying to guide him to light. 

She had stayed to talk to him, hadn’t she?

“How do you know?” He can’t help but asking, because Meltyre had said himself coming back wasn’t his idea, had been the first to doubt, had toasted to their deaths.

Betty hums again, “He cares about us, too.”

Sterling sighs. Of course he knows that. He  _ knows  _ that. He has never doubted Meltyre cared, that’s why him leaving  _ hurt.  _ Meltyre cares about them and they care about him.

_ (“Dear one.”) _

Suddenly, the exhaustion catches up to him. Magic isn’t taking quite as heavy a toll anymore, but he had spent himself anyway, battling the skeletons and running away, healing his friends. He lays his arms on the table, stares with unfocused eyes at his armor. It is dirty, of course, and cold. Its weight feels tremendous.

Betty stands up. Her chair squeaks against the wooden floor, and Sterling waits for her heavy footsteps to disappear.

Instead, a weight settles on his back.

_ (This is a different kind of weight. He can’t help but be comforted by it. Betty’s hand is warm.) _

“Here,” Betty says and, quickly, he feels his chest plate loosen. She makes short work of the knots there, and does not pause before undoing his shoulder guards. 

“Betty, that’s not really… you ought not trouble...”

“Rest. We must be prepared for tomorrow.”

Sterling doesn’t really  _ know  _ how to react. He hadn’t expected Betty to stay, to talk to him, to help. Now, as her footsteps fade away, he can’t even muster up his gratefulness. But, slowly, he starts taking the armor pieces off.

_ (His tongue has failed him many times today.) _

“Sterling,” Betty calls, already on the stairs to make her way to her room. 

He turns around. She’s looking at him intently, again.

“Yes, Betty?”

_ (Betty is not a loud person. There are many things she does not say, many things unspoken even in trust. Actions have always been better for her, more comfortable, more direct. _

_ But some things are too precious to be left unsaid.) _

“Don’t do anything stupid, tomorrow.”

“I… ”

“Meltyre cares about you, too.”

Sterling straightens up, determined in a way he can’t explain, “I gave him my  _ word,  _ Betty.”

She does not respond. Sterling needs her to understand.

“You would do the same thing for Fina, would you not?”

“Yes,” Betty says, without hesitance. Sterling knows she means it. “But would they want that?”

He doesn’t know what to say to that.

It’s all as well. Betty leaves for her room, and Sterling is left to look at their empty glasses and ponder.


	4. dubious noises (what are you doing?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Denotrah does not have Meltyre's sisters and there is much to think about.
> 
> There is much to not think about, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so long yes I know but consider this: now it's Two more chapters to go

It is quiet.

There was no battle, no ache in his bones, no bruising. Only the hot ire in his chest, the pain and betrayal he had felt.

_ "Never heard of any wizard’s sisters." _

The information  _ (the lie)  _ had hit him like an arrow. His own thoughts of  _ failure, failure, failure—  _ mixed with the anger he could sense from others. There was pain in Meltyre’s eyes, panic in his voice, and none of them had been able to help.

Lord Denotrah had killed the King, and… perhaps…

No. He could not have. He could not be so heartless, traitor that he was, scum that he was, there was no way for him to be  _ that  _ vile. Sterling would… Sterling would  _ run him through  _ himself, if a single thing had happened to Meltyre’s sisters. He would let the blood pour down the throne if it meant avenging Meltyre. 

_ He had made a vow,  _ had told Meltyre he would be able to reunite with his sisters. Yes, the wizard had rejected him, but his word had already been given. He would not go back on it.

So, for now, he  _ hopes. _

He also sits in the tavern, because of course.

The others had all dispersed already, except Meltyre. He had been staring at his own drink for a while. 

It is odd to see him like this, scarves and hat gone, hair loose around his face. His cape is gone, too. He looks so… different. Sterling finds himself enthralled. Only because of the rarity, of course, nothing more.

Nothing more.

He straightens… and winces.

There is not a single thing he would have done differently in the past few days. But… they had defeated the Bone King, immediately set out on horseback for eight days with little rest, then embarked on their way to the castle almost as quickly. Sterling is.. tired, sore, aching. His muscles are so tired, and the armor sits heavy in his shoulders. 

He had rid himself of most of it during the trip, but meeting Lord Denotrah… For the King, long live his Majesty, he would have dressed in his finest clothes. But for this…  _ usurper,  _ battle seemed most likely, and so off had Sterling gone, fastening all of his armor. A waste of time, in retrospect, the  _ scab  _ had not even deigned to see them—

He sighs. Rolling his shoulders, he moves to undo his fastenings. It  _ hurts  _ to move, but he does it anyway.

A gentle hand stops him. 

“Here,” Meltyre offers.

Sterling forgets how to breathe.

Meltyre’s fingers find the fastenings of his armor, and Sterling stays very, very still.

Meltyre fumbles with them, more than Betty or Velune had. It is clear he has never done this before, but there is a certain method to… whatever it is he is doing, apparently. His frown is telling, that way. The wizard presses his lips as he releases the ties of his shoulder guards, and Sterling follows each movement as best as he can.

_ (Sterling’s focus is a heavy thing, but so is Meltyre’s. He has been watching. He had been learning.) _

Up close, he can see the bags under Meltyre’s eyes. When his hand stills near his face, Sterling can see it trembling.

He closes his own hands into fists. He has got the ridiculous, unsolicited impulse to grab Meltyre’s hand. Sterling… Sterling  _ wants. _

He  _ wants  _ to lace their fingers together, squeeze in reassurance. He wants to tell Meltyre it will all be okay. Whatever happens, Sterling wants to  _ make  _ things okay, and… and free Meltyre from the weight in his shoulders, the weight he cannot see, just like Meltyre is freeing him. 

_ (He had taken Meltyre’s hands, however, when swearing his life to his wizard, and Meltyre had pulled away.) _

It takes Meltyre a little longer than it would have taken the others, that’s for sure. His fingers are clumsy at best, unsure at worst. Sterling holds his breath as those fingers brush his neck, torn between tense and relaxed. Meltyre’s presence is warm, but his touch, especially this close, is unfamiliar.

“Meltyre…”

“I know.”

“What?”

Meltyre sighs, but does not stop working, “Listen, Sterling, I know what you’re thinking. This… this isn’t on you, okay?”

_ “Meltyre…” _

“That… That vow you made, it doesn’t. It doesn’t have to mean anything and I. This is on me, I think. Or… or on lord Denotrah, but you couldn’t have…”

“Meltyre, this isn’t about me!” Sterling turns— 

And freezes.

With Meltyre as close he is, especially crouched close to Sterling’s armor, his face… his face. It. It is. It’s so close. Meltyre’s face is so  _ close  _ and Sterling can see, clearly, the patches of lighter skin scattered over his face, even the small one over his cheekbone  _ (his cheekbones) _ , he can see the faint mark of a scar over his shoulder  _ (when did that happen how did it happen),  _ can see the smattering of freckles beside his chin that will keep lightening as time passes  _ (will he be there when this is all over will he).  _ Meltyre’s curls frame his face but a rebel lock falls over his chin between his eyes… his eyes so wide, so open, so tired  _ (the bags are so purple),  _ so beautiful— 

He looks away.

“Meltyre,” he tries again, clears his throat when his voice cracks. “This is not about me. You said it yourself, didn’t you? I just… I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

_ (Nobody ever taught him how to do this, but Reevis had guided his hands, careful, over the fishing pole, and Sterling thinks, perhaps, that same softness will be enough. It is always that memory he tries to emulate, when love and nursing are required. _

_ So he reaches.) _

Meltyre’s hand is warm in his. This close, he can see the surprise in those eyes, the careful consideration.

_ (He doubts anyone has been gentle with Meltyre in a long time, and the thought makes his stomach burn. Another thing they have in common.) _

He holds Meltyre’s gaze with his own, refuses to budge. Meltyre’s shoulders relax. Sterling feels pride where anger and concern had previously mixed. 

Meltyre smiles.

It is a soft thing, small and unsure. He smiles, curls his fingers around Sterling’s own, and something else is starting in Sterling’s chest. That smile… so unusual.

_ (The first time they’d heard Meltyre laugh, the whole party had stopped short. It had become worse when, aware of their attention, the wizard had blushed.) _

Meltyre’s eyes soften, “I—”

A noise interrupts him.

“ Adventurers! I have a message for you.”

Meltyre lets go.

Sterling’s hand closes around empty air.

_ (He tries not to think about how one of Meltyre’s lips is lighter than the other.) _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come yell at me over at ladywhitetower on tumblr! Comments appreciated but not demanded, hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to yell at me over at tumblr on ladywhitetower!


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